


But the Morning is Cruel

by Jacepens



Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, M/M, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacepens/pseuds/Jacepens
Summary: There is nothing more cruel than being forced from your lover’s arms at the first of morning.Aka an angsty ficlet based off a song
Relationships: Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/George Washington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	But the Morning is Cruel

**Author's Note:**

> [The Night is Peaceful](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=nSGEm8JOCW4)

He runs his fingers through his hair, pressing lingering kisses to his skin, pulling him close. They both acknowledged the rising sun with quiet dismay. Dismay displayed through the way they held on tighter like somehow it would make the sun slow her ascent. Would somehow make their harsh realities false. It did in fact, not.

There was a sigh against his neck as his hands retreated. His chest clenched with the sudden urge, the  _need_ to cry. But he could not. How could he cry over lost luxuries when so many near him had lost far more than him? Had so much more reason to despair than he would ever have. Yet here he lay, holding back tears as his lover’s arms left him. A gentle reminder.

_You must go, my marquis_.

He would whisper as gently as he could while still conveying his own urgency. And he would listen for there was no future where he stayed.

The bed creaked as he shifted out of it. He could not bear to turn his head and see those eyes. Soft and just as despairing as he was, crying out, begging for him to return. He would not make the same mistake twice.

But there was still a cutting of a string he could feel in his chest. Every time he left without looking back, without speaking. He feared his General would misunderstand. He always fears this, always feels the cut, like a brutal snap, as he steps outside his tent.

Lafayette used to be a morning person.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sort of thing I would put on my [tumblr](https://jacepens.tumblr.com/) but I thought why not post it on ao3? Kudos and comments greatly appreciated:)  
> 


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